


The Abyss

by theoriginalzinc



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Balouve Mines, Gen, Hurt Noctis Lucis Caelum, Hurt/Comfort, Impalement, Injury, royal arm search gone wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:02:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29582766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoriginalzinc/pseuds/theoriginalzinc
Summary: Noctis hates the Balouve Mines. Everything is cold and creepy and confusing. They’ve been fighting their way through goblins for hours, and Noctis knows they’re definitely lost, but they have to keep going because there’s supposedly a royal tomb at the bottom. Why anyone would put a Royal Tomb at the bottom of a disgusting mine, Noctis isn’t sure. All he knows is he’s exhausted and hungry and annoyed.-They're searching for a Royal Tomb when everything comes out beneath them. Literally.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia & Prompto Argentum & Noctis Lucis Caelum & Ignis Scientia
Comments: 2
Kudos: 52





	The Abyss

**Author's Note:**

> Based on that one scene from FMAB. You know the one.

Noctis hates the Balouve Mines. Everything is cold and creepy and confusing. They’ve been fighting their way through goblins for hours, and Noctis knows they’re definitely lost, but they have to keep going because there’s supposedly a royal tomb at the bottom. _Why_ anyone would put a Royal Tomb at the bottom of a disgusting mine, Noctis isn’t sure. All he knows is he’s exhausted and hungry and annoyed.

They’re in the middle of mowing down _another_ group of daemons when something goes wrong. Noct’s slashing through a goblin, Ignis beside him, when a loud crack sounds through the room. Noct’s feet go out from under him, and suddenly he’s falling. Actually, everything’s falling—the floor’s crumbled beneath them. His instinct is to warp to safety, but he can’t make out a target, let alone a path that won’t skewer one of his friends in the process. Ignis lets out a yelp as they go tumbling, reaching out for Noctis, but he can’t reach. Everything goes black.

Noctis blinks, vision blurry. He’s lying face-down on the ground. Across the way he can see Prompto and Gladio among some of the fallen rubble. Gladio’s already starting to stir. Noctis groans and pushes himself up wearily, the action causing a wave of nausea in him. Looking down, he sees a small pool of blood forming beneath him. Frantically he looks back, a dribble of blood escaping the corner of his mouth.

A fragment of a thin metal girder is pierced through the left side of his abdomen. All at once, a sharp pain surges through Noctis and he gasps before crying out, collapsing onto his side, the girder rattling metallically through the mine shaft. He can’t move. His body only trembles as he feebly attempts to reach out, to yell to Gladio across the way. Are they okay? Where’s Ignis? He’d been nearby when they fell. Was he also…?

“Noct!” cries a voice followed by skittering footsteps. Prompto. There’s the heavier thud of boots beside him. Gladio.

“Damn,” Gladio groans. “That doesn’t look good.” He kneels down beside Noctis, placing a hand lightly on his shoulder and inspecting the wound. Noct’s shivering, his skin breaking out in a cold sweat. Gladio looks him in the eye, but Noctis can’t figure out his meaning. Without breaking eye contact, Gladio commands Prompto to find Ignis.

“I’m here,” calls the unmistakable tenor of Ignis from some distance away. “I’m alright, a bit worse for the wear, perhaps, but alright nonetheless.” His voice gets closer. There’s the sound of rustling, pipes and rubble clanking against each other. “How’s Noct?” He sounds nearer.

“It’s not good, Iggy,” Gladio says gravely. Noctis hears the sound of feet hitting the ground, and then a gasp.

“I see,” Ignis says softly. Noctis looks up, breaths labored. Through the haziness of his vision he sees Ignis, more disheveled than Noctis has ever seen him. He’s favoring one leg, his hair mussed and coated in dirt. His clothes are rumpled and torn. Noctis slides his eyes over to where Prompto’s crouched, leaning forward on the balls of his feet, hands clasped in front of his mouth. He’s similarly roughed up, but what Noctis notices most is the redness of his face, the wet tracks on his cheeks.

“We need to remove the beam,” Ignis announces matter-of-factly, kneeling down beside Gladio. Noctis has always admired his level head. “We’ll need to work quickly. As soon as it’s out, I’m afraid he’ll bleed out quite rapidly. Prompto, what’s our current supply of curatives?” He asks as if he doesn’t have the numbers memorized.

“Uh, 4 regular potions and 1 hi-potion,” Prompto responds shakily.

Ignis clicks his tongue. “Any phoenix downs?” He follows up quietly. There’s a beat of silence after the question.

“Iggy—” comes Gladio’s voice, pitched low.

“I need to know exactly what the stakes are,” Ignis explains plainly.

“…There’s none,” Prompto replies, voice barely a mumble.

“Right,” Ignis sighs. He’d known this, but had hoped beyond hope he’d missed them when he was organizing the Armory.

“I’m not… gonna die here…” Noctis huffs between heavy breaths. He looks at Gladio and Ignis from the corner of his eye. “Not… from something… this _stupid_ …”

Gladio chuckles dryly. Some of the tension has been wiped from the air. “Well, alright then,” he says. “I’m holding you to that.”

Ignis guides Noctis gingerly into a sitting position. “Prompto, you’ll need to hold him upright,” he instructs. Noctis feels hands grasp his shoulders as Prompto sinks down in front of him. “Keep him still.”

“Right,” Prompto says resolutely. He flashes a weak smile at Noctis. “I’ve gotcha, buddy.”

“Gladio,” Ignis says. The two make eye contact.

“Yeah, I know. You need me to pull it out, right?” He’s standing, a hard look in his eye.

“Yes,” Ignis murmurs. “I’ll administer the hi-potion as soon as it’s out. That should stem most of the bleeding.”

“Got it.” Gladio steps behind Noctis and lowers himself into position, hands hovering around the girder.

“I’m sorry, Noct, but this is going hurt quite a bit,” Ignis says, pulling the hi-potion from the Armory.

“Yeah,” Noctis grunts. “Just… do it… already...”

“Deep breath,” orders Ignis. Noctis sucks in unsteadily. “Go, Gladio!”

Noctis can’t suppress the scream the beam rips from his throat as Gladio beings to pull. Prompto’s hands clamp down harder as he writhes. It seems to go on endlessly, the girder grating against his insides, sucking the very life out of him. Finally, he feels it exit his body, leaving him with the breathless feeling of emptiness, a chill washing over him. Belatedly, he hears the sound of the potion breaking, feels it spread onto his flesh, but it brings only minor relief. He slumps forward, Prompto catching him in his arms.

“Did he…” Gladio says hollowly.

“Still here,” Noctis grumbles, spent. He has an arm wrapped around his waist, pressing lightly against the wound.

Ignis inspects the wound on his front, then looks around at Noct’s back. “It seems the potion has stopped the bleeding, and his breathing appears easier, but it won’t last forever. I’m loathe to give him another potion until we’ve fully ascertained the extent of his injuries. We need to get him out of here at once.”

“No,” Noctis protests weakly, “we’re so close to the tomb. I don’t… wanna…” _Come back here_ , is what he meant to say, but he passed out mid-sentence.

“Noct!” Prompto gasps, lifting him up slightly. Ignis places a hand against Noct’s chest.

“I believe he’s merely unconscious,” he explains. “His body’s undergone quite a bit of stress. We should leave. Now.”

Noctis wakes, lids heavy. There’s light streaming in from a nearby window. A ceiling fan whirs above him. He goes to reach out a hand, but finds his arms even heavier than his eyelids. He groans. This room is unfamiliar to him.

“Noct!” chime three voices at once. The disharmony of it sends a twinge down his neck.

“Ugh,” he whines intelligently.

“Noct! Buddy! You’re awake! And alive!” Prompto cheers, hysterically gleeful. “How ya feelin’?”

“Blahg,” Noctis replies helpfully.

“Perhaps he’s not quite lucid,” Ignis muses, looking down at him with concerned eyes.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Gladio mentions.

“’verthing’s heavy,” Noctis complains. He feels fuzzy, too, but that’s more than he feels able to convey at this moment.

“Yes, I imagine it is,” Ignis agrees, undoing the buttons on his shirt. He’s wearing a buttoned shirt? He vaguely recognizes it as one of Ignis’s sleep shirts. His stomach is wrapped in bandages that Ignis gingerly presses. Noct hisses. “Still a bit tender?”

“Mm,” Noctis hums. He’s starting to feel a little more awake. He blinks a few times, wiping the sleepiness away, little by little. He notices an itch in his elbow. His eyes slide down his body, landing on the IV inserted into his left arm. “What happened?” His voice is still rough, but the words come out clearer.

“Metal girder happened,” Gladio answers.

A blurry memory surfaces at the front of his mind. The mines. The explosion. “Did we get the Royal Arm?” He has a feeling what the answer will be, and he doesn’t like it.

“No, I’m afraid we’ll need to make a return trip,” Ignis informs him. Noctis groans. “Not to worry. We won’t go back until you’re fully healed. As it happens, we’re quite far the from the Mines anyway.”

The question is written on Noct’s face. “We’re in Lestallum,” Prompto explains. “I’ve never seen Iggy drive so fast.”

“We needed to get you to a doctor,” Gladio elaborates. “Figured we could trust someone here. Holly hooked us up with one of her friends and she got you all patched up.”

“Yeah,” Prompto says softly. “You were in rough shape, buddy.”

“Don’t do that again,” Gladio warns without heat.

“Yeah, yeah,” Noctis agrees lightly, and a smile creeps onto all of their faces. “So how far behind in _King’s Knight_ am I?”

“ _Dude!_ ”

~*~

_When you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares back at you._


End file.
